


Sickness of a Lonely Soul

by ChaosController



Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood (but not heaps of it), Hair Dye, M/M, Teeth marks, almost use of blade, analogical - Freeform, kinda a zombie au but not really, kinda just fluff, knives mentioned, maybe Trigger Warning, no mention of zombies, no real relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosController/pseuds/ChaosController
Summary: Logan wakes up with a mysterious bite on his arm. Gray hair follows along with pale skin and the inability to consume properly.Anxiety has a little 'heart-to-heart' with him. (Sort of)





	Sickness of a Lonely Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. Didn't turn out how I hoped, but close enough.

Logan groaned as he pushed his chair and body back from his desk. He sighed and slumped in his chair. He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and winced as the deep bite mark on his arm. The teeth indentations going deep enough to break his skin. He was tempted to scratch the indents in his skin, but pushed the urge to the back of his mind. He looked at the darkened computer screen and did a double take. He gripped a section of his hair and tugged it gently. The greying hair stayed in place. Logan felt his body tense as footsteps stopped outside his door. He breathed heavily as they continued down the hall. His eyes falling from the door to the floor. He gripped his shirt and bit his lip as his heart hammered away in his chest. Scratching his head with one hand he glanced down at the bite and then turned to his reflection. He felt tears well up as he looked at the hair. He switched his computer on and quickly looked for causes. Finding none he looked for something to cover it up. He searched for the perfect hair dye and finally found something close to his hair colour. He smiled softly and felt the tears dry as the product was procured. 

“Logan. Are you okay? You don’t look so good”, was the first thing Patton said to Logan as he entered the kitchen. Hair dyed and ready to lie his way through another day.

“I can assure you I am fine”, Logan muttered as he sat down and was presented with a plate of pancakes, Patton’s speciality. Logan poked at the food. It smelled good, but something about the small stack turned him off. He sighed softly and felt something large move close to him. He spun his head around to look at Anxiety as the dark trait sneered down at him. Logan shrugged and turned back to his plate.

“Good morning my glorious subjects”, Roman sang as he descended the stairs. Logan let a small smile grace his features as he forced himself to take a small bite. It tasted like nothing. He chewed the food a little and swallowed as Patton gently berated Roman on his manners and early morning singing. Anxiety snorted as Roman sat down, a little sheepish after his performance. 

“And how was your night Anxiety?”, Patton asked, focusing his attention on the other member of their group. Anxiety glared at Patton and shrugged, leaning back in his chair and giving Logan a wary look.

“Yes?”, Logan asked after a while, glaring hard at the dark persona, a frown set deep in his features.

“Nothing”, Anxiety muttered, looking away and turning his glare to the toaster.

“Logan, you look rather pale. Are you well?”, Roman asked and Logan saw Anxiety flinch in his peripheral vision.

“I am”, Logan muttered as he stood and walked away from the table, leaving his pancakes relatively untouched. He walked up the stairs to his room and closed his door behind him, beginning his work.

“I don’t think he is. Maybe one of us can coax him to open up?”, Patton asked, looking from the plate to the two left at the table. His concerned frown worrying the others.

“I don’t think he’d want me to talk to him about this sort of thing. I’d probably end up arguing with him or shouting at him”, Roman murmured, not too ashamed to put his fragile relationship with Logan out in the air, his own faults as well as Logan’s to blame for their lack of friendship.

“I’d just mess it up”, Anxiety mumbled, shoveling some more pancakes into his mouth as he grumbled about Logan not wanting to open up to them.

“I’ve already tired. Please you two, just…try”, Patton murmured as he turned and went back to finishing off breakfast and cleaning the utensils he had used for cooking.

“Paper, scissors, rock?”, Roman suggested and Patton let a small huff of laughter slip from his mouth at the ridiculous suggestion. 

Anxiety considered turning Roman down on his offer, but being called a chicken for the rest of the week was not how he wanted his week to go. There was the added bonus of beating Roman. Anxiety liked winning competitions with Roman.

“Fine”, Anxiety murmured after a short period of silence.

“Paper, scissors, rock”, the two chanted. Anxiety groaned inwardly as he looked down at the results. Paper beats rock. Roman beat him.

“Now go talk to him”, Roman said with a smirk on his face as he shoved Anxiety out of his chair and watched the other with eagle eyes as he traversed the living room and began his ascension up the stairs. 

Logan’s hands quivered as he surveyed his upper body. He thought the greying hair was bad. Now his entire body had begun to pale. Nothing like the paper white he had assumed he would gain, but light enough to be noticeable in comparison to the others and Thomas. He was startled as the door opened and slammed closed quickly.

“Put some clothes on!”, he heard Anxiety yell from the other side. Logan pulled his shirt and jumper back on, swiftly covering his upper body and bite mark. He walked over to the door and opened it, allowing Anxiety to fall in and push him into falling onto his back. He felt his lungs collapsed as the air was knocked out of them. Anxiety fumbled and rolled off him, red spreading up his neck and into his cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Sorry”, he muttered as he stood and held a hand out to the other still trying to get his breath back.

“It’s fine”, Logan murmured softly as he sat up and took Anxiety’s hand. Anxiety yanked hard and stumbled as Logan’s head and chest clashed with his chest. Trying to stabilise both of them he quickly wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist as the other gripped his upper arms and shoulders for support. Once they had regained their balance Anxiety let go and Logan stepped back. Anxiety shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from Logan as the other dusted himself off and clasped his hands together behind his back. 

“So…”, Anxiety started, struggling to think of something worthwhile to say. 

“Uh, is there something you wanted?”, Logan asked, frowning softly at Anxiety as the red flush began to dissipate. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s uh…well…Patton’s like really worried and junk…so they sent me up to ask if you were okay?”, Anxiety finished, looking down at the carpet and inwardly grimacing at his broken sentence. 

“I’m perfectly fine”, Logan murmured looking at the door before letting his eyes drop to the floor.

“Really?”, Anxiety prodded, watching as Logan’s frown deepened.

“Yes, I can assure you I am in perfect health”, Logan said, looking at the other.

“Come here”, Anxiety murmured, making a beckoning gesture. Logan glared at Anxiety before giving in and walking closer to the dark trait. He stopped a foot or so from the other and looked Anxiety in the eye. Anxiety glared into his eyes and Logan felt his own surfacing. “You’re not fine.”

“I am, defeatist”, Logan said, pouting slightly. Anxiety almost chuckled at the nickname he was beginning to earn. But he kept his head in the game and his eyes on the prize. He was going to get Logan to talk, even if it took all night. 

“Not a defeatist”, Anxiety murmured as he glared as Logan. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You are and I will not”, Logan said, moving back further and bumping his back into his drawers. He looked down as the package of hair dye fell to the ground. He held his breath as Anxiety moved closer and bent down to pick it up. He looked over the package and looked up at Logan with a suspicious look.

“Didn’t think you’d be into dying your hair. Rebellious phase much?”, Anxiety asked, chuckling a little at the idea of Logan with multi-coloured hair.

“Give that back”, Logan muttered, snatching the package out of Anxiety’s hands and shoving it back into place. 

“You gonna tell me what this is all about, or do I have to find out myself?”, Anxiety asked, frowning at Logan. Logan deliberated for a bit before sighing and walking over to his bed, patting the covers next to him.

“You have to promise me you won’t tell the others, and you won’t run away. I don’t care if you hate me, but I don’t need Thomas to panic and loose it”, Logan said, glaring at Anxiety as the dark trait sat on the bed next to him, leaning back on his hands a little.

“Shoot”, Anxiety muttered, feeling laughter bubble at Logan confused and slightly horrified look.

“I can assure you I am not going to kill you, I don’t have a gun or anything of that caliber”, Logan said, looking bewilderedly at Anxiety.

“Figure of speech, go ahead”, Anxiety murmured, rolling his eyes for added effect. 

“I woke up with this a day or two ago”, Logan said, pulling the sleeve of his jumper up, red marks following the receding fabric. His arm flexed slightly and the marks became more visible. “Since this morning I’ve come to notice strange symptoms; paleness, greying hair, the inability to eat without wanting to…push it back out of my system again. I also seemed to have developed the unnaturally helpful ability of not needing sleep.”

Anxiety frowned and bit his lip, looking down at the floor as Logan read out the list of symptoms he had accumulated. “You don’t remember getting the bite?”

“No. I woke up and there it was on my arm. From the teeth pattern I hazard a guess of it being human”, Logan murmured, running his fingertips over the shallow divots in his flesh. Something in him, a deep repressed pat of himself, told him to dig his fingers into the cuts, perhaps he’d be able to dig it out. This virus that infested his body. He didn’t feel the small smile that crept onto his face, nor the small rivulets of blood that had begun to flow from the now open wounds.

“Logan”, Anxiety said firmly, taking hold of Logan’s hand and holding it tight. Logan started from his trance, looking up at the dark trait before him. He looked down at the blood, now streaming steadily from his arm. He blinked a little bit before realising he couldn’t feel any pain. He frowned down at his arm until a black sleeve began to dab at the blood trails. Logan watched as Anxiety began to take care of the somewhat self-inflicted wounds. “You alright? You seemed out of it.”

“I…I have discovered I no longer feel pain, whether this only true for minor cuts, scrapes and bruises is yet to be confirmed”, Logan said, his eyes defocusing and his mind wandering to thoughts of fire and knives. He’d have to experiment to figure out the repercussions of this virus. Logan sighed softly as his eyes wandered over to the door. He stood and walked towards the door, stopped by a firm grip on his wrist.

“Where are you going?”, Anxiety asked. Logan looked back at the blurry figure. He felt like he was under water, everything sounded distorted, fuzzy, distant. He turned back to the door and didn’t feel the pressure on his wrist decrease as Anxiety let go. Anxiety followed Logan to the bathroom whereupon Logan ran the tap on hot until it began to steam the room up. Anxiety almost flinched when Logan stuck his hand under the stream of water. Anxiety grabbed Logan’s shoulder, wrenching him back and quickly running the tap on cold to deal with the burning that Logan should be feeling. Logan reached forward and stuck his hand back under the stream, shivering as a cold feeling penetrated his skin. 

“Why would you do that?”, Anxiety questioned quietly, frowning at Logan’s lack of response. The other turned to the drawers and began rooting through them, finally finding what he was looking for. Logan took the blades out of their holder and held them over his wrist. Anxiety seeing this smacked Logan’s hand, blades flying out and sliding across the floor. “What are you doing?!”

Logan looked up at Anxiety, questioning the blur that seemed to be yelling at him. He felt something on his cheek. Something warm and firm, a guiding force. He reached up and felt the force. Feeling his vision regain focus as he felt the hand slide over his cheek. A tear slipped down his cheek and he felt the hand glide up to wipe it away. He collapsed to the ground, tears spilling from his eyes as the thought of what he had just done began to circulate his mind. He watched as Anxiety sank to the floor, gingerly touching his shoulder as silent tears ran down his face. 

“I didn’t mean to yell at you”, Anxiety murmured, brushing some of Logan’s hair out of the way so he could reach Logan’s eyes and cheeks. He wiped the water away and smiled softly at the logical facet. He flinched as Logan wrapped his arms around Anxiety’s neck, burying his head in the monochrome hoodie. Anxiety sighed faintly and let the other cry into his hoodie, gently wrapping his arms around Logan’s back and waist. A small smile wormed its way onto Anxiety’s face as Logan tired himself out and slipped into sleep. Probably for recreational purposes since he didn’t require it anymore, Anxiety mused. He picked the other up gently, gripping under his knees and shoulders and lifting as slowly as he could. He walked out of the bathroom and into Logan’s room, stopping to readjust his grip on the other. He laid the logical facet out on his bed and sat down at the edge of the bed, a hand on Logan’s arm. 

It was stabilizing, comforting to have someone that didn’t believe in the supernatural or the superstitious. Roman’s creativity and Patton’s optimism weren’t always the best thing to calm his overactive mind. Logan was a grounding force. Logic ruled his decisions and attitude to life. He was unfeeling and couldn’t be swayed by ‘myths and legends’, as he called them. He had the uncanny ability to show off a perfect poker face and was not good with feelings. It was refreshing. Having someone that relied on the data around them and nothing else. Ever the immaculate dresser, ever the voice of reason, ever the emotionally disabled. Anxiety chuckled softly as Logan turned over towards the door. His breathing low and steady. It was also unnatural. Logan was always on edge, waiting for the next move as if the world was a game and he was a player. He was always so tense. Seeing him so peaceful was unusual, unsettling, but in a good way. He liked seeing this side of Logan. The side that would say what he felt, be honest with himself and let his feelings and knowledge coexist. 

Anxiety sighed and stood. They’d figure this out. Eventually.


End file.
